


Study Break

by AndiLand (AndiMarquette)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU College, Barista Lexa, Coffee Shops, F/F, First Date, Flirting, Fluff, One Shot, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Short One Shot, barista Lexa and pre-law Clarke, clexa au, first date angst, pre-law Clarke, slight angst, soft clexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23090062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiMarquette/pseuds/AndiLand
Summary: CLEXA ONE-SHOT!Lexa Woods is a college student interested in pursuing law school. She works part-time at a coffee house off-campus. Clarke Griffin is a pre-med student at the same university who ends up one day in Lexa's coffee house. They get to chatting. Like, over the course of a few weeks. Sparks ensue. One of them just needs to get it together to ask the other out on a date...
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa Woods, clarke/lexa
Comments: 38
Kudos: 246





	Study Break

Lexa has regulars at Daily Grind coffee house. She knows which days they come in and what they generally order. A couple of them might switch their orders up now and again, but they let her know. Otherwise, they generally ask her for their usual and she knows exactly what that is.

One of those regulars is Clarke, though Lexa isn’t sure Clarke even knows she’s on Lexa’s regulars list. She probably just likes coming to the Grind because the coffee’s good and so is the atmosphere. Lexa probably doesn’t have anything to do with Clarke’s regular status.

But she likes to think that maybe she does.

She knows Clarke is pre-med at Polis U, and that once she graduates next year she’ll be headed to med school. She knows that Clarke likes to study here, and that she doesn’t seem to mind chatting when she comes in and Lexa’s on shift. Sometimes Lexa thinks Clarke might be flirting with her, from the sparkle in her eyes and the flash of a smile-smirk and the way she says things. Lexa knows a flirt-tone, but with Clarke, she doesn’t dare to hope. Besides, she’s seen Clarke with her friends, and Clarke is naturally flirtatious.

But it’s really nice to think about.

Today is one of Clarke’s days, and Lexa wonders if she’ll show. It’s annoying but kind of cool, the little sparks of anticipation in her stomach that flit like fireflies from one side to the other.

She finishes up a double-shot espresso for the geeky engineering guy with a stutter, locs, and a neat goatee who stops in Wednesdays and Fridays on his way to class.

“Here you go, Mark,” she says as she places the paper cup on the counter.

“Thanks,” he says with a smile. That’s not one of his sticking words, and she also knows that when he’s really stressed his stutter is more pronounced. Today must be a good day in that regard. She’s good at reading body language, too, and his demeanor is relaxed.

“Yep. Have a good class.”

He raises his cup at her and leaves, and she wipes down the machine and counter. It’s Friday and that, coupled with the nice weather, usually means people head out of town for a break. It’s been slow most of the day, though three of her regulars have been in already.

Jessica is in the back organizing a few things and cleaning while Roberto is wiping tables down. She likes working with these two because they’re conscientious and fun and she knows if things get busy, they can handle it.

She looks up at the clock above the doorway to the back and automatically shifts her gaze to the front door, but nobody’s there and a twinge of disappointment gets hung up in her chest.

Clarke’s late.

Roberto finishes the last table and joins her behind the counter, where he puts the cloth in a bucket of sanitizer and hot water. “I’ve got this,” he says. “Take a break.”

She glances at the door again. Still nobody. Only three tables are occupied. “Okay,” she says, trying to hide her reluctance, but she does need to pee. She unties her apron and hangs it on the hook in the back. Jessica is just finishing up organizing the last supply shelf.

“How are things out there?” she asks as she straightens.

“Fine. Roberto did the empty tables and restocked the napkins and stirrers, so we’re all good.”

She makes an affirmative noise and Lexa goes to the bathroom. A few minutes later she’s got her apron back on and she’s checking the inventory sheets to make sure the next crew has what they need, since she’s off tomorrow.

And then she thinks about Clarke, who hasn’t shown today, and she thinks she’s stupid for looking forward to seeing her, and stupid for being disappointed when she doesn’t show, which happens sometimes.

Things come up, and people get busy and maybe they go to other coffee houses or they go out of town or they’ve got things to do.

Could be anything.

No big deal, and not the first time she hasn’t shown.

Jessica appears in the doorway. “Hey, Anya’s here.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Jessica moves out of the doorway and Lexa goes to the counter where Anya’s standing, dressed in jeans and a casual button-down. Her hair is pulled back from her face, and she has her usual calculating, aloof expression but it softens when she sees her.

“’Sup, cuz?” she says with a smile.

“Hey. When did you get back into town?” Lexa asks as she goes around the counter to give her a quick hug.

“An hour ago. Want to go to dinner tonight?”

“Sure. What time?”

“When do you get off work?”

“Six.”

“I’ll come by.”

“Sounds good. What are we having?”

“Nothing fancy. I was thinking pizza.”

“Awesome.”

“All right. See you around six.”

“Okay. Text me if anything comes up.” She gestures at the counter. “Do you want a coffee for the road?”

“How long have you known me?”

Lexa laughs and goes back behind the counter where she prepares a medium Americano, room for cream, while Roberto rings it up. Lexa finishes with her discount code then takes Anya’s cash—Anya hates paying for small purchases with a card. She gives her change and Anya pockets it.

“Perfect,” Anya says when Lexa hands the cup to her but Lexa doesn’t hear her and doesn’t let go of the cup as her attention is drawn to Clarke, who has just come in. She’s got her messenger bag looped over her shoulder and, oh, God, her hair is pulled up into a messy bun and she’s wearing faded jeans, a baggy black sweatshirt under a jean jacket and her beat-up black Converse sneakers.

She’s beautiful, and Lexa both loves and hates the effect she has on her.

“Uh, coffee?” Anya says and Lexa jerks her gaze back to her and lets go of the cup. “Jesus, ask her out already,” Anya says under her breath. She’s clearly seen Clarke come in and she gives Lexa an exasperated expression.

It’s not that simple, Lexa wants to say. There are variables to consider. Is Clarke single? Is she into women? Is she into dating, period? And would she even say yes if she was single, into women, and into dating? And if she said no—that would suck _so hard_.

And then Clarke sees her and she smiles in greeting and that might be a chorus of angels Lexa hears in the recesses of her brain.

“Hi,” Clarke says as she approaches the counter while Anya gives Lexa a look from the coffee condiment area and mouths, “six” at her.

Lexa gives her a nod and a wave then focuses on Clarke. “Hey,” she says, smiling back. “What are you in the mood for?” She knows Clarke generally has three go-tos and she’s guessing this is a study session and she’ll probably want the Daily Grind’s bottomless special – house coffee with however many refills for five bucks if you bring your own cup.

“Bottomless.” She sets her insulated traveler’s cup on the counter.

Lexa smiles again, takes the cup, and moves to fill it, leaving room for cream. Clarke likes a lot of cream, especially for study sessions.

“Thank you.” Clarke hands her a five-dollar bill. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Not so busy today, but Fridays can be unpredictable.”

“How’d your exam go?”

Lexa hesitates, a little surprised that Clarke remembered that detail from their quick chat last Friday. “Great, actually. Thanks. What’s on your exam schedule?”

Clarke sighs. “Anatomy. On Monday, of course, so my weekend is pretty much shot.”

“It’s important to take study breaks, though,” Lexa says as she rings up the purchase. “So your brain doesn’t explode.” She realizes that probably sounds dumb. “And this is why I’m on a law school track and not med school, because I clearly know nothing about brains.”

Clarke laughs and it’s such a great sound that Lexa grins. “I’m guessing you know enough to figure things out,” she says with a certain tone and Lexa wonders, again, whether Clarke is flirting with her.

God, she’s such a big gay mess where Clarke is concerned. “I mean, yeah. Helmets are good for certain sports. But not good if your brain is exploding. On the other hand, they might help prevent zombie bites.”

Clarke laughs again. “Does that reference mean you might be into zombie movies?” There’s a note of hopefulness in the question and a thousand possible responses run through Lexa’s head. Clarke’s flirting with her. She has to be. So she should admit that hell, yes, she loves her some zombie movies and zombie shows. Like a roulette wheel, the response clicks into place, and she starts to give it when Roberto interrupts.

“Hey, Lexa, Art’s on the phone.”

Shit. The manager, probably with a list of things he wants done that she and her crew already did. He’s a nice enough guy, but he has the worst possible timing. She looks apologetically at Clarke, who smiles.

“No worries. Chat later if you get a chance?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” That might’ve sounded too eager and she tries not to visibly wince and instead watches Clarke walk over to her usual table, by one of the front windows. Oh, shit. She should definitely not have done that because Clarke Griffin is not only friendly and beautiful, but she has spectacular curves on the back end.

She turns away before she becomes a bigger gay mess and takes the phone, preparing for at least ten minutes of Art running through a checklist with her.

###

Clarke sits down at her fave table and looks over at Lexa behind the counter but she’s on the phone and her back is turned. She texts Raven.

_she’s here omg her eyes i can’t ajajkajksdjfk_

Although she knew Lexa would be here, because her schedule tends not to change that much, she’s learned. Lexa works around her classes.

Clarke sets her phone down and takes her tablet and anatomy text out of her bag. She also has an actual paper tablet and some fine-point pens that she uses to draw various anatomical systems to help her memorize the parts. She’s already got a bunch of those done, and she takes them out, too.

 _did you talk to her,_ Raven texts back.

 _a little-ugh i’m a big bi mess around her [worried face emoji]_ She waits for Raven’s response.

_clearly. [laughing emoji] ask her to coffee or something_

Clarke sighs, exasperated. _have you SEEN where she works_

 _maybe she likes it when other people make her coffee_ _[thinking emoji]_ , Raven responds.

_I have to figure something out and you’re not helping, bestie [raised eyebrow emoji]_

It takes a few minutes for Raven to respond, which Clarke uses to organize her notes.

_you’re going to be around all wknd-ask her to go for pizza_

Clarke stares at the text message chewing her lower lip. Study break. Of course. _ok you might be a genius_

_MIGHT? Lolol_

Clarke texts a kissing emoji back at her and sets her phone aside. She glances back at the counter, but Lexa isn’t visible and Clarke freezes for a moment, thinking she might have gone off-shift but she pushes that thought aside because for some reason, she knows Lexa would’ve said something to her before she left and besides, she’s here ’til later today, she’s pretty sure.

And yep, Lexa emerges from the back carrying a big bag of coffee beans and Clarke watches her, because reasons. Like that tee she’s wearing that exposes her arms. Her toned, muscular arms. Her hair’s up today, and as much as Clarke loves to see her hair down, she also loves it up, because it displays her cheekbones and the lines of her jaw, which Clarke has stared at more than a few times.

Like she’s doing now. She sips her coffee and tries to focus on her notes. It helps that her view of Lexa is mostly blocked by the espresso machine. But she keeps sneaking glances toward her and keeps listening for her voice. She thinks about the first time she saw her, when she came in maybe two months ago and Lexa took her order then went to work on it. She was devastatingly beautiful but also cute, and polite and charming, and the Americano she’d made was the best she’d ever had.

Clarke had watched her that afternoon from the big table in the middle of the room where she sat with three other people from her study group, and she liked how Lexa seemed completely at ease, in control—she was the person you wanted with you in a crisis. And, honestly, in non-crisis situations, because she seemed down to earth.

On her second visit to the Daily Grind two days later, Clarke got her name. She heard another employee say it and it was formally seared into her brain. And it was that visit that she made sure Lexa knew what her name was, too, because she ordered a coffee to go and gave her name, since the Grind employees called those out when the drinks were ready. They chatted a bit that visit.

And the ones after that.

Two weeks after that was when her friends started telling her to ask Lexa out.

Clarke wants to. She’s tried a bit of flirting and she’s pretty sure Lexa flirts back, though she’s a little shy. Or maybe she’s just cautious.

Other possibilities have run through her mind numerous times. Lexa might not be single. Or into women (though she’s pretty sure she is). Or into dating. Those are the kinds of questions that are kind of hard to ask someone, but she’s willing to, because a let-down for any of those reasons is much better than a let-down because she’s just not that into you.

And Clarke has not ever been turned down for that reason. She’s good at reading people, and Lexa smiles when she sees her, and she chats with her and she’s told her a few things about herself. Nothing too deep, but enough to test some waters, see where deeper conversation could go.

All Clarke has to do is ask her out.

She writes her phone number down on the bottom half of a blank page in the tablet she’s been using for anatomy sketches and then she carefully tears It off and ponders it for a bit before she adds a little note underneath it: _Study break sometime?_ She writes her name then folds it and sets it on the table, like it’s a placeholder for a next step.

She drinks more of her coffee and goes through her notes on the human circulatory system, including the detailed color-coded drawings she’d made. Surprisingly, she stays focused and works through the first half of the practice exam then gets up to get more coffee. Not that it’s an excuse to talk to Lexa again.

Except it totally is.

“How’s the studying going?” Lexa asks as Clarke sets her cup on the counter.

“Good. Slow, but good. Anatomy is a bitch.”

Lexa smiles. “But it’s useful.” She goes to refill the cup. She brings it back and sets it on the counter and Clarke is about to put the lid back on when she looks up and runs into Lexa’s gaze. For a couple of moments they just stand there, looking at each other over the counter and it’s like they’re sharing a secret though Clarke isn’t sure what it is.

“Also, yes,” Lexa says, breaking the moment.

Clarke knows she must look confused because Lexa smiles again.

“I like zombie movies.”

She relaxes and smiles back. “Just zombie movies? Or are there other kinds of movies you’re into?”

“I like all kinds of movies. But I do have a fascination with end of the world scenarios and how those play out in pop culture.” She shrugs, kind of sheepish, and it’s so damn cute.

“Good to know.” She wants to say something else, but there’s a guy behind her who looks like he wants to order something, so instead she smiles again and goes to add cream to her coffee, wishing she could have some time to sit and talk a little more with her.

 _are you still there_ , Raven texts just after Clarke sits back down.

 _yes_. She looks over at the counter again because it’s practically habit, now, looking for Lexa when she’s here.

_and?_

_got halfway thru practice exam [cool emoji]_

She knows Raven is working up a snarky response, so she sets her phone down and sips her coffee.

Her phone dings and she picks it back up.

_did you get Lexa to volunteer to be your anatomy model to help study????? [devil horns emoji]_

_omg Reyes she’s a sweet coffee barista._ A sweet, sexy, future law school coffee barista. _such requests are not on the table._ Yet.

_she’s on the table? Lsdjflkjkjgljlk_

Clarke laughs. _stahp! have to finish this practice exam_

_oh, of course…_

Clarke texts her the flip-off emoji followed by the kiss emoji. She then glances toward the counter but Lexa’s not there. Probably in the back, she automatically decides and she answers the next few questions on the exam. She gets into a rhythm with it, so much so that she doesn’t notice when someone approaches and it startles her a little when Lexa interrupts her with a quiet “Hey.” Followed immediately by, “Oh, geez. Sorry. Didn’t mean to mess up your groove.”

Clarke sets her tablet down. “No, it’s okay—are you leaving?” Lexa’s wearing a baggy gray sweatshirt and she has a backpack over her shoulders.

“Yeah.” She hesitates. “Glad you came in today,” she says in a rush.

“Same. So do you have something fun planned for tonight, to bring in the weekend?” She doesn’t want Lexa to leave just yet, wants to talk more.

“Nothing wild. Dinner with my cousin.” The corner of her mouth quirks, a half-smile and Clarke is entranced.

“Sounds fun. I hope you have better things planned for the weekend than I do.” She gestures at the study materials on her table and Lexa’s gaze lingers for a couple of seconds on the sketches and then she hooks her thumbs on the straps of her backpack.

“Not really. I’ve got tomorrow off, and I haven’t really decided what I’m going to do. Probably study a little. I have another exam coming up, too.”

“Oh? When?”

“Thursday. Political science this time.”

Clarke watches her and decides that Lexa likes this class, from the spark in her eyes. “Here’s to exams going well.” She picks up her cup and toasts her, which causes Lexa to give her that half-smile that sets little fires in her chest.

“Definitely,” she says. Her phone chimes with a text and she pulls it out of her pocket. “My cousin’s on her way.” She glances out the front windows, as if she’s going to suddenly appear.

“So—” Clarke starts, because there’s really no way not to be sort of awkward when you’re giving someone you’re interested in your phone number, but the guy behind the counter calls out.

“Lexa. It’s Art again.” He holds the receiver up.

Lexa sighs and Clarke imagines that both the guy and Lexa share an eyeroll across the room. “Be right back,” she says, apologetic, and Clarke smiles and nods and her stomach clenches. God, this is awkward. Why can’t she just…say something? Ask her to hang out? Normally, she’s not like this. Normally, she just asks someone she likes if they’d like to get together.

But Lexa—she has depths that Clarke senses but isn’t sure how to navigate and something about that makes this seem a little more important than just a casual one-off date or two.

She picks up the folded piece of paper with her number and taps it on the table nervously. She thinks about the eyelock they’d shared earlier, then glances at Lexa, still on the phone, nodding in that impatient way people get when they really want to get off the phone.

And after what seems like a long time but is only another minute or two, Lexa hangs up and hands the phone back to the guy. They have a brief conversation and the guy laughs and Lexa turns and starts back toward Clarke’s table, which is both exciting and anxiety-inducing.

She’s still toying with the paper.

“Anyway,” Lexa says, “I hope you have a good weekend and good luck on your exam.” It’s rushed, and she seems as nervous as Clarke feels. She glances through the windows again. “Oh. I have to go.”

Clarke guesses her cousin has arrived, but Lexa hesitates, and she looks like she wants to say something but isn’t sure how.

“Uh,” she says, her fingers fidgeting with her backpack straps. “I was wondering—”

The front door, which is close to Clarke’s table, opens and a striking woman with long brown hair steps in.

“Yo,” she says to Lexa. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Lexa says, hasty, and she looks a little frustrated. She’s still pretty close to the table and her hands are hanging by her sides now and she starts to turn. “Catch you later,” she says, sounding a little disappointed at this interruption, but Clarke surprises herself because she reaches for Lexa’s wrist and at the contact, Lexa stares down at Clarke’s hand, which is now somehow cradling Lexa’s.

Now or never.

Clarke puts the paper with her number on it into Lexa’s hand, then gently closes her fingers around it with her own hand. “Have a good night,” she says as she releases her hand, her heart feeling like it’s doing a speed metal drum solo in her chest. Lexa’s gaze is now on hers and she smiles.

“I have to go,” she says again, and she’s still smiling. “But I didn’t get a chance to ask you—do you like movies, too?”

Her heart starts another drum solo and she smiles back. “Yes. All kinds.”

Lexa nods, her smile now a grin, and she goes to join the woman waiting for her at the door and they leave together. Clarke waits a few moments then sinks back in her chair. That was…date-ish, right? It feels like it. Wasn’t it? She picks up her phone and texts Raven.

 _i gave her my number_. And then she’s a big, bi mess again and she can’t study anymore so she starts packing up when her phone chimes.

 _are u serious_ , Raven texts back.

_yes ldfjgdjgkldfjklsjdk_

_omg [party hat emoji]_

Clarke chews her lip, marveling at the sparks bouncing around her entire body right now. She finishes putting her stuff into her bag and arranges it over her shoulder when Raven texts her again.

_are you done there?_

_yes—on my way home_

_see you soon DEETS, GRIFF_

She chuckles and puts her phone in her pocket, picks up her cup, and steps out into the fading light and starts walking.

She can’t stop smiling.

###

“So,” Anya says as they leave the coffee house. “I feel like there was a moment just then.”

“Maybe.” Lexa slips the paper into her jeans pocket. She hasn’t looked at it yet because she doesn’t want to deal with Anya’s snark or teasing about it. Most times, she doesn’t mind it or ignores it, but she doesn’t want it to diminish this moment. Which involved Clarke touching her hand and that right there makes her feel like she’s floating.

“Did you ask her out?”

“I’m not sure.”

Anya makes a noise that’s half-sigh, half-groan. “What does that even mean?”

“It means…I’m not sure.” But she’s sure that the door’s open, now.

“What—oh, Jesus. I haven’t seen you smile like that in fucking months.” She pulls her in for a half-hug while they’re walking and Lexa almost trips but she laughs, too, as Anya kisses the side of her head.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks as she lets go.

“She’s amazing,” Lexa says before she considers her words.

This time, Anya laughs. “Okay, Romeo. How do you know? You’ve barely talked to her.”

“I don’t know. I just do. And we’ve chatted a lot,” she adds. “Every time she comes in, she talks to me.” She thinks about the mischievous twinkle in Clarke’s eyes (Jesus, her eyes) when she flirts—and Lexa knows she’s been flirting—but tonight feels different, like they’d both come to a decision about what that flirting means. She thinks she can actually feel the piece of paper in her pocket, through the fabric of her jeans. She waits for a typical Anya jibe about crushes.

“You said something like that the first time she came in when you were working,” Anya says instead, totally surprising her. “Except I think you said ‘interesting’ then.”

“You remember that?”

“I pay attention sometimes.”

“Maybe sometimes,” Lexa says with a smirk, remembering the first time Clarke came in around the middle of January, on a day that was overcast and spitting cold rain.

Clarke had been wearing jeans, a faded black leather jacket with several patches on it, and a grey woolen beanie. She’d said hi and that it was her first time in and could Lexa make a coffee drink that would get her through her study session? Something strong but that didn’t leave her feeling like she’d had three Red Bulls.

Lexa made her an Americano that included vanilla and cocoa in her mix and Clarke had thanked her and went to sit at one of the big tables with some other people.

But she came up to the counter later and told her it had been the best coffee she’d had and could she get another? Lots of studying, she’d said.

Two days later she came back and got something to go and when Lexa asked for her name, she had smiled and told her.

Clarke’s smile, Lexa had thought then, is the reason there are women who dig women.

And soon, she was on Lexa’s regulars list.

“So did you get her number?” Anya asks as she opens the door to the Italian restaurant they both like for its pizza.

Lexa thinks about the piece of paper in her pocket. “Yes,” she says, even though she hasn’t looked yet. She just knows, and her hand might still be tingling from where Clarke touched it.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, _finally_ ,” Anya says in a long-suffering tone and Lexa keeps the conversation light like that as they get a table and order. When the pizza arrives, Lexa serves them both then doctors her slice with pepper flakes.

“Does she like pizza?” Anya asks before she takes a bite.

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s hope so, because if not, I’m not sure I can give you my blessing.”

“Because I live for that, of course.”

Anya laughs. She likes it when Lexa snarks back. “Work up to the pizza. Don’t do that on a first date because if she doesn’t like pizza…” she trails off ominously.

Lexa takes another bite. “Noted.”

“So what do you have planned for the first date?”

Lexa smiles because this is how Anya pries. “Not sure yet.” But she has an idea, since she has a day off tomorrow and Clarke will be around, somewhere, studying. She’ll need a break, Lexa’s sure, because who doesn’t need study breaks? And the weather is supposed to be nice. So it’ll be a break that involves being outside, and she has a feeling Clarke will appreciate that.

“For fuck’s sake, you’ve got to have a plan for a woman like that.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Like what?”

Anya sets her beer down and focuses her full attention on her. “For a woman who catches your eye.”

Lexa regards her, not entirely sure what she means.

“She must be something special for you to actually want to go out with her.”

“So you’re saying I’m picky?”

“Discerning,” Anya says, and there’s only a hint of teasing in her tone. “And there’s really nothing wrong with that.” She takes another drink from her beer. “Just…looking out for you. It’s been a minute since you were really interested in someone.”

“I’m a little concerned that you’re talking like this,” Lexa says, teasing her back. “Aren’t you supposed to be giving me a hard time and making fun of my crush?”

Anya sets her beer down but she doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “Look,” she says, “one of my jobs in life is to bust your balls on occasion, but you’re also my family and I want you to be happy, whatever form that takes. After your last go-around, I’m just glad you’re putting yourself out there a little bit and you’re willing to take another chance.”

“Wow,” Lexa says with a smile. “That might be one of the longest speeches you’ve ever given.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles. “I know I can be an asshole, but I always have your back.”

“I know,” Lexa says as Anya finishes her beer. “And I appreciate it, even when you’re being a dick.”

Anya gives her a look but she’s smiling. The server drops off the check and Anya picks it up and scans it.

“How much?” Lexa asks as she digs her wallet out of her backpack.

“Not a damn thing this time, cuz.” She takes out a credit card.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely. But there’s a condition.”

Lexa raises an eyebrow and waits.

“You actually contact Clarke and make a date.” She sets the check aside with her card and the server shows up almost immediately and whisks both away.

“Seriously? Who even are you?”

“Your biggest cheerleader right now. Just remember that you’re amazing, too, and whoever catches your eye better treat you right.”

The server returns the receipt and Anya’s card.

“Want me to leave the tip?”

“Nope.” She puts her card away and stands. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

Lexa stands, too, and puts her backpack on. “Where’s your car?”

“Your place. Figured it’s not that far and parking’s a bitch this close to campus.” She puts her jacket on and Lexa follows her out of the restaurant and she thinks about Anya’s protective streak which is almost awkward because snark is her default, but she also knows that Anya unequivocally will always have her back, even when she’s snarking.

Anya slips back into her usual mode as they walk the few blocks to the building where Lexa’s apartment is but she gives her a bear hug before Lexa unlocks the outer door and goes inside.

And now she practically sprints up the stairs and jogs down the corridor to the door to her place, which faces the street. This building is a huge four-story historic Queen Anne-style home that’s been carved up into apartments. Lexa’s is a small one-bedroom on the second floor, and she can access a small balcony from her bedroom window, which she does during warmer weather.

She drops her backpack unceremoniously onto her couch and pulls the piece of paper Clarke gave her out of her pocket and stares at it for a bit, thinking about the brush of their fingers and how Clarke can say so much with just her eyes and the quirk of her lips.

She unfolds the paper, heart pounding, and _yes_ it includes Clarke’s phone number. She grins because of the study break reference and she likes that Clarke thought about that, too. It makes fluttery things happen in her stomach and she sets the paper on her table and takes her phone out of her back pocket and enters her password.

From there, she carefully enters Clarke’s number into a new text message. And then she stops. Is nine too late to send a text? Is that rude? Intrusive?

And now she doesn’t even know what to say and she’s wondering if it might be tacky to ask someone to meet with a text. Maybe she should wait until tomorrow and call her. But that might be too late, and Clarke might already have filled her study break schedule. She stares at the piece of paper on her table, thinks again about Clarke taking her hand and placing it into her palm and gently folding her fingers closed around it.

She types out a text but doesn’t send it: _Hi. It’s Lexa. Was wondering if you’d be interested in a study break tomorrow afternoon? Since I have the day off and all…_

Should she include an emoji or is that dumb? And should she say she’s sorry she’s texting so late?

God, what the hell? She’s asked women out before.

Not Clarke, though. And Clarke turns her into a big, gay, hot mess.

She reads the text message a few more times. Is it too vague? No, she needs to give her an out if she’s already got stuff going on. And she doesn’t want to seem pushy.

It’s almost 9.20.

Now or never.

She sends the text and exhales like she’s been holding her breath. It’s done. No going back. She sets her phone on the table and goes to her bedroom to change into sweats. Then she’ll watch some TV and try really hard not to think about the text she just sent (ha ha).

But as nerve-wracking as sending it was, she’s smilng.

###

Clarke’s in the kitchen waiting for the microwave popcorn to finish when Raven bursts in, waving a phone around. “What the hell?” Clarke asks.

“Griffy,” she practically yells and then she’s waving the phone around again and Clarke realizes it’s _her_ phone.

“Oh, my God, what are you even doing?” She reaches for the phone and Raven actually hands it to her, though she’s still in celebration mode.

“Clarkie got a text,” Raven says, and then she starts singing that phrase.

“What are you even talking about?” She looks at the home screen and there’s a message notification from a number she doesn’t recognize and then she sees the word “Lexa” in it. “Oh, my God,” she says again and here she goes, another big bi mess.

“Read it. Then let _me_ read it,” Raven says, abandoning her “Clarkie got a text” song, to the relief of the neighbors, no doubt.

Clarke opens the message and becomes an even bigger bi mess. She holds it up so Raven can read it.

“Yes,” Raven says with a fist-pump. “Text her a hell yeah back.”

“Don’t you think it’s too late?”

Raven stops bouncing and limping around and stares at her. “Seriously? It’s Friday. And she’s not working tomorrow, so she can sleep in if she gets a late text.”

Clarke chews her lip and studies the text.

The microwave dings but a few more kernels pop. Raven takes the bag out and shakes it then carefully opens it and pours it into the bowl on the counter that Clarke had brought in from the living room.

She’s still trying to figure out what to write back.

“Wow, you’re a hot mess,” Raven says.

She’s not wrong. Clarke looks up at her. “I don’t know why. I mean, it’s not like I’ve never gone out with anybody before.”

“Because maybe she’s more than flavor of the month.” Raven takes a handful of popcorn and starts munching. She’s got her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and she’s wearing her favorite ratty sweats and a T-shirt that advertises a car parts store.

She frowns at her and Raven shrugs.

“There’s nothing wrong with trying different flavors and going through them quickly, as long as you’re honest about whatever you’re doing. But there’s something different about Lexa. You want to make a good impression because you might really like her.”

“I don’t even really know her.”

Raven shrugs again. “You’ve been talking to her for…what? A couple of months? And talking _about_ her for that long, too.”

Clarke glares at her but Raven just smiles.

“You can get a sense of someone even just chatting,” Raven continues. “If you’ve been doing it for a while.” She takes another handful of popcorn. “So just freaking text her back and tell her yes, absolutely, I will gladly meet you and hang out with you tomorrow and whatever other days you want because I might be into you.”

“Not helping,” Clarke says and Raven laughs.

“You know I’m right.” She goes back to the living room before Clarke can retort.

And now she’s alone in the kitchen with her thoughts and Lexa’s text message. For fuck’s sake, it’s not that hard to say yes.

Except it kind of is, because Raven’s right. This is definitely not a flavor-of-the-month situation, and yes, Clarke might like Lexa.

But there’s no “might” to it. She does. She definitely does.

“Ugh,” she mutters as she starts to type a message. It doesn’t have to be this hard. They’ve had fun chatting. So pretend she’s just chatting. That’ll make it sound natural.

 _Absolutely. My afternoon’s clear!_ She doesn’t send it just yet, continues to chew her lip before she adds a little more. _Let me know when and where to meet you._ Texting was a little safer right now, maybe, than a phone call. She also decides an emoji might be weird for this, a first text to her, so she sends it before she starts second-guessing herself.

Raven comes back into the kitchen. “I’m practically halfway through the bowl. Are you going to join me or not?”

“Whatever. It’s only been a couple of minutes.”

Raven smirks. “Did you text her back?”

Clarke gives her a look.

“Yes,” Raven says before she goes to the fridge and takes a soda out. “What’d you say?”

Clarke shrugs. “My afternoon’s clear and I told her to let me know when and where to meet.”

“Playing it cool, are we?” She opens the soda and takes a sip.

“I might have said absolutely.” She’s smiling.

Raven grins. “As in you are absolutely interested in a study break?”

“Yeah. That.”

“Among other things.” She exaggerates a wink.

Clarke rolls her eyes and goes back into the living room where she sits down on the couch and picks up the popcorn bowl from the coffee table they’d made out of boards and bricks. Raven’s been watching _Forensic Files_ and Clarke doesn’t turn the channel because she kind of likes it, too. Raven joins her and Clarke puts the bowl between them.

She munches on popcorn, her phone on the couch next to her, which she’s trying to ignore. It’s not working and she keeps looking at it, willing it to notify her of a text.

Maybe Lexa’s tired and went to bed. Or maybe she’s out with friends. Or any number of things.

She reaches for more popcorn when her phone chimes and both she and Raven freeze, staring at each other.

“That sounds promising,” Raven says after a couple of seconds.

Clarke picks up her phone and her heart’s pounding again.

_Great! 1 at the pier outside Sarita’s okay? If you’re hungry, we can grab something there, if you want._

Clarke reads the message several times, strangely charmed that Lexa texts in largely complete sentences, with things spelled out.

“Well?” Raven says. “What’s the plan?”

“One at the pier.”

“Oh, excellent choice. Go to Sarita’s.”

Clarke smiles. “That’s where she suggested we meet.”

“I think I like her, too.”

She snorts and reads the message again, imagining Lexa’s eyes and that impish half-smile she displays. _Perfect_ , she types out. _See you tomorrow!_ She’s about to send it when she adds, _looking forward to it_.

Maybe that’s a bad idea. Too much too soon? But she _is_ looking forward to it. Why not say it?

“I feel like you’re over there working on the text version of _War and Peace_ ,” Raven says around a mouthful of popcorn. “Tell her it’s great and you’ll see her then. Boom. Done.”

“That makes it sound like some boring work meeting.” She decides not to remove the last part and sends the message. “And this is definitely not that.”

“Interesting,” Raven says with extra innocence. “What exactly is it, then?”

“Recon.”

She laughs. “But does that make it a date?”

“A recon date,” Clarke says. “It’s a hang-out, but there’s potential for more and if something doesn’t go quite right, it was just a hang-out.” And then she stops, because oh, my God, she’s going on a date. With Lexa.

Her phone dings and she looks at it. One word from Lexa: _Same._

And this recon date is suddenly imbued with a lot more potential. She adds Lexa’s number to her contacts list, as if that would somehow guarantee that tomorrow would go well.

Somehow, she knows it will.

###

The weather is perfect—one of those warm early spring days that only requires a light jacket and even that’s too much if you’re sitting or standing in the sun.

That’s why Lexa takes her jacket off, because the bench in front of Sarita’s is in direct sun right now and it feels really good, the warmth on the bare skin of her arms and her face.

She has sunglasses on, which makes it easier to watch people without looking like she’s doing it. Her friends tell her shades make her look cool and sort of intimidating, which she kind of enjoys, but she doesn’t need shades to be intimidating. She knows how to do that if a situation calls for it.

Right now, however, she’s feeling far from intimidating. She’s nervous and unsettled, and that’s why she’s at the restaurant twenty minutes early, to give her a chance to prepare, to make sure she’s here before Clarke.

Lexa forces herself to keep from looking at the text exchange they’d had the night before. She’s lost count of the times she’s done that already. Instead, she watches a guy walking his dog on the boardwalk. The dog is a big, goofy lab mix, maybe, and seems as happy to be out in the sun as she is.

Everybody who walks past has that “time for spring” energy, and some people are out in shorts and tanks though the breeze off the water hasn’t gotten the warm weather memo yet.

She watches a huge container ship slowly pass, headed toward whatever pier it’ll be unloading at after its long ocean voyage. Seagulls ride the air currents above, waiting for someone to drop some bit of food or offer it voluntarily.

Lexa loves the piers, and loves the smell of the sea almost as much as she loves the smell of forests. She inhales, and catches the odor of fried fish from Captain Jake’s a couple of doors down, along with stale beer and the tang of salt that permeates everything in this area. She’s so engrossed in watching several pelicans gliding over the water that she doesn’t notice that anyone’s approached.

“Hi,” Clarke says, and Lexa jerks her head in surprise to look at her.

“Hi,” she says back and she hopes she doesn’t sound over-eager. Though she is.

It’s beautiful, the way they do that,” Clarke says, gesturing in the direction the pelicans went. She’s wearing sunglasses, faded jeans, a well-loved pair of red Doc Marten boots, and a blue cable knit sweater under a gray fleece vest. She has her hair in a loose bun and Lexa’s not sure she’s still breathing. She manages to stand.

“So…thanks for coming,” she says.

“Thanks for the invite,” Clarke says, hands in her vest pockets. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Nah,” Lexa says. Because honestly, she’d wait hella longer for Clarke. “Did you want to get something to eat?” She motions at the door into Sarita’s, which has really good Salvadoran food and she hopes Clarke says yes to that because it’s easier for Lexa to talk to women she’s really into at first when there are other things going on, like having lunch.

“I would love to.”

And it’s like someone lit a bunch of sparklers in her chest and is waving them around in all kinds of patterns. “Excellent. Let’s do this study break thing,” she says as she holds the door open. Clarke laughs and enters the restaurant and a few minutes later they’re at a table along the wall with a view of the water waiting on their order. Lexa relaxes a little because conversation with Clarke comes easily, like chatting at the coffee house did, and she wants to learn more.

Their food arrives and Lexa likes how Clarke appreciates it and offers her tastes, which she of course accepts and offers tastes of her own back.

“Mmm, that’s so good,” Clarke says. “I haven’t been here in a while. Really glad you suggested it.”

So is Lexa. Because amidst the banter and conversations about classes, exams, and family backgrounds, she and Clarke keep exchanging looks and that’s the best kind of trip, is falling into the blue of her eyes, enhanced by the blue of her sweater. Lexa likes how she can look both casual and put together at the same time and she also likes the sound of Clarke’s voice, its timbre deep honey with a little roughness scraping along the edges. Her laugh is genuine and infectious and Lexa’s heart trips over itself every time Clarke smiles.

They talk for a while after they’ve finished eating, and that’s how Lexa finds out that Clarke is bi and single, and that she’s allo and cis. Lexa confirms that she’s also single, allo, and cis and that she’s lesbian and Clarke smiles and glances out the window then back at her.

“Um, do you want to hang out a bit more? I mean, unless you have somewhere else to be,” she adds, hasty.

“No,” Lexa says and then clarifies at the slight crease in Clarke’s forehead. “I mean no, I don’t have somewhere else to be and yes, I want to hang out more. As long as you’re okay with that. I know you have an exam coming up.”

Clarke’s smile is like the sun after a storm. “I would much rather continue this study break.”

“I am completely on board with that.”

They stand and they both leave a couple extra bucks on the table in addition to the regular tip for taking up a table much longer than others. Lexa likes that Clarke pays attention to things like that. She puts her jacket on and follows Clarke outside.

“There’s a pretty good coffee bar down here,” Lexa says as they walk, water to their right, shops and restaurants to their left, most still retaining a weather-beaten veneer rather than the sleek urban chic that came with gentrification. She prefers the former to the latter.

Clarke laughs. “You mean Prime?”

“Yeah. They have pretty good drinks.”

Clarke is still chuckling.

“What?” And then she almost faints because Clarke gently shoulder-bumps her and the contact, short as it is, surprises her with the effect it has. Plus, when she’s that close, Lexa can smell Clarke’s cologne or body wash or whatever the hell it is and it’s crisp with clean floral notes and maybe some jasmine. She loves it.

“Just…you spend a lot of time around coffee.”

Lexa laughs, too. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

Clarke is still smiling, almost shy. She clears her throat a little. “So my friend and roomie Raven suggested I ask you to coffee, but I hell no’d that in a big way because I figured you might not want to hang out in a coffee house if you didn’t have to.”

Lexa smiles back. “Thanks for taking that into consideration. But I do like coffee, and there’s hanging out in a coffee house and then there’s stopping briefly in one to get something to go.” She raises an eyebrow. “If you’re into it. We don’t have to.”

And Clarke looks at her with something that might’ve been affection and it goes right into her heart because it feels so familiar, spending time with her like this though they barely know each other.

But it feels like they do, like they’ve been here before, in this tentative dance of something new but something found, and she doesn’t know how to put that into words so she just smiles again.

“You have a nice smile,” Clarke says softly as they approach the door to Prime and Lexa knows she’s blushing, but hopefully her sunglasses and the collar of her jacket are helping to hide it.

“Thanks,” she manages. “So do you.” She holds the door open, and she’s melting inside.

Clarke brushes past, her cologne teasing Lexa’s nose. Fortunately, ordering coffee distracts her from that. She orders a mocha, since she wants something sweet while Clarke goes for one of her standards, an Americano, which she doctors with cream and some sugar.

Drinks in hand, they leave and continue walking and talking and this has to be one of the best days Lexa has had in a long time.

Clarke sips her drink. “Not bad,” she says. “But it’s not yours.”

Lexa laughs. “Glad you appreciate my barista skills.”

“Definitely. It’s not just your smile that keeps me coming back.” She flashes her a cute little grin.

“Glad my mad barista skills are worth your visits,” Lexa says, managing to tease her back.

“They so are. And so are you.” Clarke slows and walks over to the railing that overlooks the water. She leans back against it and regards Lexa. Neither of them put their sunglasses back on after they left Prime and Lexa gets caught in the full force of Clarke’s electric blue gaze and her heartbeat speeds up.

“This has been so much fun,” Clarke continues, holding her cup in both hands. “And…great. Amazing. I’ve really wanted to hang out with you like this for a while.”

“Well,” Lexa says, “I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while.” And then she practically holds her breath.

A slow, super-sexy smile lifts the corners of Clarke’s mouth. “Good thing I gave you my number, then.”

Lexa grins back. “Definitely.” Is she floating? She might be floating. She leans back against the railing next to her, not sure what to do next but not really caring because this moment is the pinnacle of this day and a lot of other days since Clarke first walked into her personal daily grind.

“So…” Clarke says, looking at her again. “Can we please do this again?”

“Absolutely.” She sips her coffee because she’s about to lose her mind and she needs something to keep her grounded.

“And just so we’re clear, I’m interested in getting to know you better.”

“Good. Because I’d really like to get to know you better, too,” Lexa says, a little nervous to voice that but something about Clarke makes her feel brave. “But no pressure for anything you don’t want or expect. I just like you.” She clears her throat but manages to hold Clarke’s gaze.

She smiles. “I like you, too.”

She raises an eyebrow and takes a drink of her coffee.

Clarke grins. “Well. Glad we got _that_ out of the way.”

“Totally.”

“So does this mean I can ask _you_ out?” That flirtatious little twinkle dances in Clarke’s eyes.

“Yes.” Is that a chorus of angels in her head? “But did you want me to check the queer dating manual to make sure?”

She laughs. “I think we’ll be okay,” she says and Lexa really likes how that sounds because it seems like it could mean a lot more. “So how do you feel about pizza?” Clarke continues.

“Love it.” Another chorus of angels?

“Great. Um, do you think you’d like a study break tomorrow evening?”

“I will definitely be in the mood for a study break then.” Her heart pounds.

“Would you like to come over for pizza and beer—or whatever you’d like to drink—and watch some L-Word with me and Raven? If that’s okay. I mean, we can find another day—”

“I’d love to,” she says, and it’s really cute, how Clarke rambles when she’s flustered. “What time?”

“Around six okay? Unless you have to work?”

“I do work in the morning, but I’m done at two.”

She looks at her, surprise and relief in her eyes. “Cool.” And then she puts her free hand into the pocket of her vest. “Raven and I will order the pizza, so don’t worry about that. We like this Italian place near our apartment. Angelo’s.” She takes a drink from her cup.

Lexa grins and the chorus of angels is totally following her now. “I love that place.” She doesn’t say she was just there the night before because she doesn’t want Clarke to feel obligated to order something else on her account.

“Oh, you know it?”

“Yeah. I live three blocks away.”

Clarke stares at her, eyes widening. “Oh, my God. I live about four blocks from it. Where do _you_ live?”

Lexa gives her the address and Clarke smiles and provides hers. Clarke lives one street over from Lexa and a block past. And there is no way she’ll ever forget Clarke’s address.

“So we’re basically about two blocks from each other,” Lexa says.

“How have I not seen you in the neighborhood?”

“You have.” She shrugs. “Daily Grind.”

Clarke snorts and gently shoulder-bumps her again. “I mean outside of that.”

“Maybe you just didn’t notice.” She would like Clarke to lean into her and stay that way for a while.

“Oh, no. I’d totally notice you,” she says, in the tone she uses when she’s flirting a little. She smiles then, self-conscious. “I totally _have_ noticed you,” she adds, her voice soft, and she stares at the lid on her cup.

“I’m really glad you did,” Lexa says. She hesitates a few seconds, studying her cup, then decides to say the other thing on her mind. “I was trying to ask you out yesterday at the coffee house, but Anya showing up kind of—” she clears her throat. “Made me even more nervous.” She looks at her, nervous all over again, but the expression in Clarke’s eyes is so warm that all she can do is stare and again, a current pulses between them, like they’ve been here before, like there’s a lot more between them than a first date study break and pizza tomorrow.

“So I’m really glad you gave me your number,” Lexa says.

Clarke’s expression fills with something like anticipation and hope. “I’m really glad you used it.”

And it’s like they’re tuned to a wavelength only they understand, because they start walking again, and Lexa automatically puts her hand out for Clarke, not even thinking about it, and when Clarke takes it and intertwines their fingers and squeezes gently, it’s only then that Lexa realizes what she did. But it was so natural and it feels so right that she squeezes back and Clarke is smiling and looking at her like she can’t believe she’s here and God, Lexa feels the same way.

They hold hands all the way to the train station, talking and laughing and there’s heat and sparks racing up Lexa’s arm the whole way.

And the sparks only build because when they pull into the station in their shared neighborhood, Clarke asks if it’s okay for her to walk with Lexa and holy hell, of course it’s okay and that’s how, fifteen minutes later, they end up standing outside Lexa’s place, as twilight shadows lengthen and the warmth of the day retreats into evening chill.

“I had a really good time,” Lexa says, her hands in her jacket pockets because it’s getting a little cold and she doesn’t want to presume anything and try to hold Clarke’s hand again.

“So did I.” She stares into Lexa’s eyes. “And I hope we can—” she stops, like she’s not sure what to say and Lexa waits, hardly daring to breathe though she’s not sure why. “I hope we can make this a habit,” Clarke finally says after another few moments.

“Study breaks?” Lexa teases, though her heart is pounding.

Clarke laughs. “Yes.” Her hands are in her vest pockets, but they’re standing pretty close. “But I’d like to see you outside of those, too. Maybe for movies,” she says, teasing a little.

Lexa smiles and she feels like she could fly. “I’d like that a lot.” Because absolutely, she wants to spend more time with Clarke. And then they’re staring at each other again, until they both laugh quietly.

“Sorry,” Clarke says, “but I really like looking at you.”

“Do not ever apologize for that,” Lexa says. “And the feeling is mutual.”

“I was hoping.” She glances at Lexa’s building then back at her. “So…see you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” It’s a good time to go inside, she knows, but she can’t. Won’t. Needs just a little more time with Clarke, who holds her hand out, like maybe she’s reading Lexa’s mind, and Lexa takes it. They stand there for a bit, and Lexa thinks this might be a slice of heaven, the warmth of Clarke’s hand in hers, and her feather-light touch as she strokes the back of Lexa’s hand with her thumb.

Somehow they’re so much closer, now, with not even inches between them and then Lexa presses her forehead to Clarke’s and closes her eyes, caught in this moment, and it’s intimate and vulnerable but also peaceful.

They pull away after a few moments as if by mutual agreement and Clarke’s smile surely powers stars in some distant galaxy.

“Good night, Lexa,” she says, and it sounds almost reverent. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Clarke,” she says as she gently pulls her hand free, though it seems to tingle with Clarke’s touch afterward. “Definitely see you tomorrow.” And then she flashes her a flirtatious little smirk, holds her gaze a beat longer, and walks to the main entrance of her building, though she can’t feel her feet touching the ground.

*

Clarke watches Lexa walk away, and she misses her presence immediately, misses her smile and laugh, and the depths of her eyes and how she makes her feel alive and safe. She’s not sure why, since they’ve only just started this dance, but she knows she wants it to continue, and now she’s standing here, waiting for Lexa to get to her door. And okay, she likes watching how she moves.

Lexa goes up the few stairs to the covered porch of the big historic house that now serves as several apartments and she opens the front door then turns and looks back at Clarke and her gaze is full of the moment they just shared.

Clarke wants so many more of those.

Lexa flashes her another smile then goes inside and Clarke closes her eyes, letting the day wash over her, a tide of warmth, anticipation, and excitement. She starts walking home, new beginnings stirring in her heart, and plans for a lot more study breaks.

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, all! Here's a Clexa one-shot for all y'all. Just a totally fluffy flirty romantic kinda thing. And yeah, I'm still kinda digging the whole idea of Lexa as a barista while she's in college. Most likely it's because I have a secret thing for sexy, confident, and competent baristas. Whatever!
> 
> Anyway, thanks for joining me on another Clexa trip. Hope you dig it.


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